


It Was a Dark and Stormy Summer

by Arduinna



Category: Voyagers! (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Time Travel, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2817242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arduinna/pseuds/Arduinna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bogg and Jeffrey land in 1816 Switzerland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was a Dark and Stormy Summer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heidi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heidi/gifts).



The bright rush of the cosmos around him slowed and shifted into watery daylight as he fell toward the ground, as always losing contact with Bogg just as the world solidified around them. Jeffrey was resigned to bumps and bruises when he landed, but a sudden sharp pain in his ankle caught him by surprise. He yelped, bending forward to grab his leg.

"Jeffrey?"

"Ooowwwww," Jeffrey moaned, wincing. "I think it's broken!"

"Are you sure? Can you stand up? Here, try," Bogg said, holding a hand down to help him up.

Jeffrey took it cautiously, keeping all his weight on his good leg until he was upright and balanced properly on soft earth and damp grass, then gingerly putting his other foot down. He yelped again at the wave of pain, lifting his foot back up and clutching at Bogg's arm.

"Damn," Bogg muttered. "We have to get you to a doctor." He eased Jeffrey back down to the ground, holding him steady till Jeffrey could balance himself without jarring his ankle.

"Do they even have doctors here? Where are we, anyway?"

Bogg took the omni off his belt and flipped it open. "Switzerland, June 1816. There should be one somewhere."

"Red light?"

"Red light – but first we worry about you, kid. Then we worry about history." Bogg snapped the omni shut and hooked it back on his belt, settling it firmly before tugging at the bright sash underneath. "Now let's get that ankle wrapped up and find that doctor."

~~~

A few minutes later, they struck out across the muddy field toward a nearby road, Jeffrey riding securely on Bogg's back. His ankle throbbed with every step Bogg took, but Bogg had done a good job wrapping it to hold it as steady as possible, and it was bearable. Jeffrey clenched his teeth and held on tight.

By the time they reached the road, the skies had opened up and Jeffrey was starting to shiver, his t-shirt plastered wet and cold to his back. "Are you sure it's June?"

"That's what the omni said," Bogg said, his voice determinedly cheerful.

Uh-oh. "Bogg?"

The sound of carriage wheels and horses' hooves interrupted, and Bogg blew out a relieved-sounding breath.

"Am I too heavy?" Jeffrey blurted out guiltily, starting to pull away from Bogg.

Bogg tightened his grip on Jeffrey's legs, pulling him back in closer. "Of course you're not too heavy, Jeff. Flag them down, would you?"

Jeffrey frowned at the back of Bogg's head but obediently waved one arm energetically in the air until he was sure the coachman had seen him. "So what's going on, then?"

"I just want to get you in somewhere out of this cold and rain," Bogg said. "If that ankle's really broken... I've seen people come down with fevers from stuff like that, is all."

"Ohhhh. Right. No antibiotics." Jeffrey shivered again, trying not to think about what that meant.

"No antibiotics," Bogg agreed flatly. He shook it off as the coach slowed to a stop in front of them and an aristocratic young man peered out at them from the window. "Thank you for stopping," Bogg said earnestly. "My friend here may have broken his ankle, and needs a doctor – could you direct us to one?"

The young man studied them for a minute, then smiled. "You're in luck – your friend needs a doctor, and my friend _is_ a doctor." He gestured at the interior of the coach, where another young man leaned forward to nod at them politely. "We're on our way back to my villa. You're welcome to join us there while John tends to your boy."

"Don't leave them standing in the wet, Byron."

Jeffrey started, nearly losing his grip on Bogg. "You're Lord Byron!"

"I am," Byron agreed, swinging open the coach door. "And my companion is Doctor John Polidori."

"Gently, now," Polidori said, watching as Bogg and Byron transferred Jeffrey carefully to the coach to sit across from him.

Bogg slid onto the seat next to Jeffrey, flashing a grateful smile across the coach. "Lord Byron? I'm Phineas Bogg, and this is Jeffrey Jones. We really appreciate this."

Byron waved a graceful hand. "It's the least we can do for injured fellow travelers, especially in this wretched weather. What a dreadful summer it's been."

"Yeah, we weren't expecting it to be so chilly," Jeffrey said ruefully, rubbing his bare arms.

"Well, don't worry, lad – my villa is just down the road. We'll be there directly, and get you both dried off and warmed up while John takes a look at that ankle."

~~~

Byron hadn't been exaggerating; it was less than ten minutes to his villa, and not much longer to have Bogg and Jeffrey both changed into dry clothes and settled in the living room with cups of steaming tea.

Jeffrey put his cup down when Polidori approached, so he wouldn't spill if it hurt. _And boy, is it going to hurt_ , he admitted to himself. He started as Bogg's hands landed on his shoulders, squeezing lightly, and tipped his head back. Bogg winked at him; Jeffrey smiled back, relieved.

Polidori was as gentle as he could be, unwrapping Bogg's sash and manipulating Jeffrey's foot and ankle, shooting him a sympathetic look when Jeffrey hissed through his teeth. When he was done, he rewrapped the ankle using more usual bandages and patted Jeffrey on the knee. "I know it probably hurts like the devil, lad, but I think it's just a sprain, not a break. Stay off it for a few days and you should be just fine."

Bogg huffed a relieved sigh above Jeffrey's head, hands tightening on his shoulders. "That's real good news, doctor, thank you. See, kid? You're gonna be fine."

"I was going to suggest you spend the night," Byron remarked from the doorway, "but it seems that it might be wiser if you stay until John thinks it's advisable to travel. What do you say – will you be my guests?"

Jeffrey's eyes widened. "Sure!" he said, then belatedly turned to look at Bogg. "That is – please, Bogg?"

Bogg leaned down to speak privately with him. "Maybe you should stay, kid – but I should go, we still have a red light."

"That's the thing, Bogg – this is _Lord Byron_! He has to be involved in the red light somehow."

"You sure?"

Jeffrey nodded fervently.

"In that case..." Bogg straightened and raised his voice again. "Thank you, Lord Byron – we'd be delighted to stay."

~~~

More guests arrived for dinner, in a flurry of damp wraps and cordial introductions: Mr. and Mrs. Shelley, and Miss Claira Clairmont.

"Do you write, Mr. Bogg?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't, Mr. Shelley."

"Ahh." The interest in all the newcomers' eyes faded into politeness.

"He's traveled quite a lot, though," Jeffrey said stoutly, smirking a little to himself when the interest flared again. "Well, you have!" he muttered when Bogg shot him a glare.

As they all sat down to eat, a thunderclap shook the house, followed by another, and another. The steady rain outside whipped into a frenzy, battering against the windows.

"Gotta admit, kid, I'm glad we stayed," Bogg said under his breath. "I wouldn't want to be out in that."

Jeffrey just nodded, wide-eyed at the ferocity of the storm.

The others clearly felt the same, despite living close by. The conversation carried effortlessly into the living room, where Bogg put Jeffrey in a comfortable chair so he could hear everything. The servants had stirred up the fire and left a pot of tea.

"Come, let us continue our game," Byron said easily. "Mr. Bogg, we have been trying to imagine ourselves somewhere less dreary – someplace warm and sunny. Have you a story you can add to our repertoire? Perhaps from your travels?"

The other adults laughed and agreed, clamoring for tales to brighten the day.

Bogg turned away from them briefly to shoot Jeffrey another dirty look, then sighed and put a congenial face on. "Warm and sunny, huh? Well, there was this time on the coast of Spain..."

Jeffrey's heart sank as the "game" went on. Everyone was having a great time, even Bogg was getting into it – and it was all completely wrong. And Bogg was too far away to grab, since he was stuck in this stupid chair.

Finally he fell back on the only option he had, and started yawning. Bogg spotted him and made their apologies, scooping Jeffrey up to carry him to a bedroom.

"Jeez, Jeff, if you were that bored --"

"I know what's wrong," Jeffrey said urgently, glancing back over Bogg's shoulder.

"Red light?"

"Red light."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense, kid – what is it?" Bogg asked, maneuvering them into the room Byron had offered Jeffrey.

"Everything is right – the people, the place, even the weather. But they're not supposed to be telling cheerful stories. They're supposed to be telling _ghost_ stories, scary things. And then there's supposed to be a contest for each of them to write their own. Mary Shelley's going to write Frankenstein after this!"

"Frankenstein, huh? I've heard of that – that's the one with the monster that got brought to life, right?"

"Right."

"Okay. It's too late to do anything about it tonight. We'll see if we can get them back on track tomorrow."

Jeffrey was going to argue until a huge yawn cut him off. "I guess I really am a little tired," he admitted.

Bogg grinned and tousled his hair. "Get some sleep. You did great figuring that out, kid."

Jeffrey beamed. "G'night, Bogg."

~~~

Bogg looked very satisfied with himself the next day when he came to get Jeffrey, pulling a book out of his coat to show him. "I found this book of German ghost stories in the library. What do you think?"

"That's perfect! How are you going to get them to read it, though?"

"You just leave that to me. And play along when the time comes."

~~~

The day passed pleasantly enough, other than the storm that still raged outside. As was clearly their custom, the adults gathered after dinner to entertain each other, once again settling quickly on painting verbal images of warmer, more hospitable climes.

Bogg cleared his throat. "Actually, could I ask a favor?"

"Of course, Mr. Bogg," Byron said.

"Jeffrey was telling me how he misses listening to ghost stories in weather like this. And I found this book of ghost stories in the library. Lord Byron, would you be willing to read some of these stories to us?"

Jeffrey put his most wistful look on, gazing hopefully at Byron in the surprised silence.

"Oh, indulge the boy, Byron," Shelley said, sounding amused. "I must admit, the conditions will certainly add atmosphere to such a tale."

The others chuckled, agreeing, and Byron bowed with a flourish. "I am at your command," he said, taking the book from Bogg. He found a good place to read and began turning pages, looking for a good starting point. "Ah, here we go," he said, sounding pleased.

He began reading, his voice weaving a spell punctuated with thunder and the pounding of rain against the building. His audience leaned forward, enthralled.

Bogg eased the omni off his belt and flipped it open.

"Green light?" Jeffrey asked hopefully.

"Green light. How's your ankle?"

"Much better," Jeffrey admitted. "I put some weight on it a little while ago, and it held. Must have been more minor than we thought."

"Think you're ready to travel?"

Jeffrey looked around the room. It would be so amazing to be there when Mary Shelley came up with the idea for Frankenstein, but it wasn't like he didn't already know how it turned out. "I'm ready," he said firmly, settling his hand on Bogg's arm.

"We'll be another ghost story they can tell," Bogg said, amused, and pushed the button on the omni.

 


End file.
